Fountain Pens
by KosmikQuixotic
Summary: Arden takes off on another (unwilling) adventure, this time through the haunted halls of a fabricated world. Canon divergence. OC-centric. Millionth in an unfinished series. Rated for language and such. I'd say you should read my other fic first, but that's not even close to finished.
1. Chapter 1

I present to you: Fountain Pens the lovechild of my procrastination from the thing I'm actually writing and Microsoft Word 2008

* * *

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Arden spat, taking in her newest set of surroundings.

She became conscious moments ago, waking to an entirely white hallway across from a beautiful mural set in a gold frame. In all honesty, it took a second to recognize the painting, but as she got to her feet and read the plaque set in the wall below the artwork, the lights flickered, leaving no doubt of her whereabouts.

The latest place that Res decided to send her was a low budget RPG horror game, titled Ib.

Arden was slightly transfixed by 'A Fabricated World'. The aforementioned low budget game depicted it as some refined scribbles, but, true to the way of Res, the graphics of the world matched that of average human eyesight, maybe a little beyond.

Arden wandered to her right, reading the plaques beneath each painting: 'Enlightenment', 'Your Dark Figure'.

She trudged on through the upper floor, and descended the stairs. With only 4 steps left, the lights flickered off. Arden paused. Audible footsteps sounded behind her. She didn't turn. She walked to the reception desk, inspecting the guestbook that normally served as a save point.

It was blank.

Though she knew it was pointless she walked over to the door and experimentally pulled on the door handle.

"Locked, as expected." She said under her breath.

Arden then tried the window closest to the door. Also locked, though the locking mechanism at the top seemed more like a decoration than a functional piece.

She tugged at the window near to the desk next. It was the same as the other, but when she tried the lock at the top of the window frame, thick liquid spilled down from the other side of the glass, tinting the faint daylight red.

Whether it was paint or blood, she didn't want to know. She carefully backed away, and scaled the stairs again.

When she reached the top, a shadowy humanoid figure passed in front of the window directly opposite her. _That's impossible_ ' she thought. _This is the second floor._ She then came to the conclusion that there might be a few impossibilities in this newest adventure. And, well, every other adventure.

As she passed 'A Lady in Red', the fruit fell out of the next painting over, splattering onto the floor in front of her. The painted fruit somehow had been given a physical, 3D form, and, quite literally, fell out of the painting.

Shaking her head, Arden proceeded past the sculptures, lingering at 'Fusion'. She trudged on, starting down the hallway that contained 'A Fabricated World,' jumping nearly a foot in the air as 'Your Dark Figure' meowed.

Not having played for so long, she scarce recalled intricate details of the game, so she was helpless against the countless jumpscares.

"Damn, I hate horror games." Arden muttered

She returned to the spot where she'd awoken mere minutes ago, and saw blue liquid, presumably paint, leaking from behind 'A Fabricated World. She ran her finger through it, confirming it as paint.

Arden whipped around as she heard 6 consecutive bangs.

On the floor, in red paint, ' B' was spelled out.

 _This is strange. Have I... taken Ib's place?_ she thought. _This hasn't happened before. No matter what world, the main character should still exist._ She cursed Res. _You can't just change rules. You can't just make people_ not _exist._ Arden thought bitterly.

She turned back to the blue paint on the wall, only to see that it now spelled out "come down below ib ill show you someplace secret".

"Maybe once you go back to elementary school and fix your grammar" she sassed. "Learn to capitalize."

Arden felt she knew where this was going. She continued on, giving the power-ranger-looking headless mannequins a sideways glance. She remembered "Death of the Individual" for what they were. Bloodthirsty- or rose-thirsty in this world- enemies who would chase you around 'til your rose wilts and you follow suit.

Deciding to test the window one more time, she stopped in front of it. It was now pitch black outside. Arden sprinted down the stairs when the same shadowy figure returned to bang on the darkened glass.

Arden leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Everything seemed in place with 'Abyss of the Deep' and 'A Well-Meaning Hell'. She wondered how she was meant to enter the haunted-gallery place.

She simply took a right turn and recognized 'Embodiment of Spirit', but there was something off about it. Rather than a red rose, the sculpture was a light grey, almost white. Perplexed by this, she stepped towards the inscription, and was shocked by yet another jumpscare: the 'Coughing Man' let out a hack. She shuddered, and moved to the other wall, away from the possessed painting.

She went down the hallway that held the 'Twinkling of Crystals and Stars' sculpture, and marveled at its beauty, something you couldn't see in the actual game. In between the pillars were cords of crystals, with mirrors pointed at them to reflect the light, making the clear stones appear to twinkle, as the name would imply.

Arden spotted a hole behind the crystal curtain with two blue footsteps leading towards it. _Whoever left them has feet almost as big as me,_ She mused.

Knowing this must be her entrance to the 'Fabricated World', she parted the hanging crystals, which, strangely enough, made a harmonious tinkling sound. They reminded her of the wind chimes her Nana hung all about the kitchen.

Arden found herself enshrouded in almost total darkness, and she got to find out about the 'star' part of the title. Dim stars twinkled in the fabricated sky every way she turned, slightly illuminating her passage. At the end of the short hallway, she came upon a spiral staircase, and was able to see properly again as it was lighted with real fluorescent lights.

The staircase seemed to go on forever, and while Arden did enjoy the way the sound of her combat boots thudding against the stone steps echoed throughout, it got old though after a few minutes of heading downward. _So unfair._ Arden thought. Ib's passage down was just a short flight. _At least I get a sweet calf workout. My butt better be fantastic after this._

She took the time to speculate on Ib's presence. The writings were directed towards Ib, but Arden had yet to see a sign of the young girl. 'Abyss of the Deep', usually the entrance into the screwed up world of the fabricated gallery, had nothing wrong with it.

Had Res made her the protagonist? _Well, I always have loved attention. And, of course, the universe_ does _revolve around me, the great and powerful Arden… who can barely tie her own shoes without dying._ One must wonder how she'd survived all these years.

Finally, she reached the end of the staircase and took a seat on the bottom step, taking a moment to catch her breath, for the second time today. The stairs opened out into a relatively small room, in which she saw two bookcases, a painting on the wall to the right of her, and a small desk with what was intended to be a save station, but was now just a glorified ream of paper. _The pen might be useful though_ , she thought, and snatched it. She'd always had a thing for fountain pens, though she was no calligrapher.

Arden walked to the bookcases in the center, betwixt them was a dark red table, a vase in the center, with a grey rose placed delicately inside. She daintily beheld the stem between her thumb and forefinger, and plucked it out of the vase, which was depleted of water.

"I'm holding my life." she said aloud, feeling the weight of the flower in her palm.

She experimentally tugged at one of the petals, not hard enough for it to come off, and felt a twinge of pain deep in her belly. _God… let's not do that again,_ she thought and winced.

Stroking the velvety petals, she counted them, and was surprised to find that the rose she held was composed of 25 petals. _I'm pretty sure that's at least twice what Garry had..._ she remembered. _Aw, is Res giving me special treatment? So sweet._ Arden was sarcastic, even in her own head. Especially in her own head. _I guess this makes up for the fact that they took away all the damned save stations._

"I've got to safeguard this with my life. Well, I suppose it _is_ my life." she contemplated out loud.

After pausing a moment to think, she tucked the rose into a convenient loop on the inside of her billowing black cloak. She couldn't really justify having the cloak, it just made her feel all mysterious.

She browsed the bookcases next to her, and found a book with an interesting sounding title. True to her rule of always bringing a book in case she needed to ignore stupid people, she tucked it into one of the many compartments of her cloak. _Like cargo pants, but more badass,_ she thought, fingering the silver clasp at her throat.

"First things first, I guess I have to find Garry."

She stepped out into the hallway. Along the wall to her right were portraits of a bald man with extremely pale skin who was depicted crying tears of blood in each painting. Arden quickly rushed along, unnerved. _Did Guertena really have to paint such creepy stuff? I mean, I get that he's an evil mastermind and all, but is this shit really necessary?_

She exited through the door at the end of the hall, and came into a narrower, shorter hallway with four mannequins positioned at the end. Three of them were the power ranger things from 'Death of the Individual', and another was a simple headless mannequin with a blue tie. _The male form,_ she supposed.

Arden faintly recalled this being the room with the portraits of ladies in various color, based on 'A Lady in Red.' She counted the paintings as she passed (as a memory of it being relevant later), coming up with 14 total.

Arden smirked, and pulled the pen out of her cloak. On the inside of her wrist, she wrote "14 LRP". _Well, the would-be save stations do have some use, I suppose. Sweet pens._

She quickly went down the hall, past the headless mannequins. _Despite occasionally painting creepy-ass stuff and being an evil mastermind, Guertena was kinda deep. I mean, I assume he meant with the mannequins being headless and all, that without our outward appearance, which we really only maintain for social reasons, we would lose all individuality. That, or he was too cheap to make the heads._ She took a turn, and finally came to another door. She fumbled open the door, _not wasting anytime in_ that _room._

Pulling the door tightly shut behind her, she observed the next room, which was another rather long hallway. She felt an immediate disquiet when she noted the long line of glass mannequin heads along either side of the hallway. Instead of rushing (like usual), though, she carefully walked down the hallway, her footsteps light. Above the dismembered mannequin heads on her righthand side, there were more paintings of the pale bald man, though he wasn't crying here.

Eerily, it seemed as though its eyes were following her every move.

When she finally reached the end of the hallway, she found yet another useless save station, the fountain pen mocking her. She took that one as well, tucking it in her cloak alongside the other.

She pulled open the door, and came into a small room with two paintings. 'Heart in Custody' and 'Unbalanced Box'. After admiring Guertena's work for a minute or two, she continued onward.

She exited through a painting/door creature - _like Harry Potter, no?_ , who asked for her flower, a request which she promptly denied, and continued on her not-so-merry way.

She opened the first door she saw, and entered to find that it was filled with stools and easels with all the same picture on them; that picture being what appeared to be a bottle of eyedrops. In the back of the room, she spotted those eyedrops on a table. Deciding to save that for later, she filed it in her memory, exited, and moved on.

Another save station (which she joyfully seized the pen from) sat at the end of a short hallway along with a painting that depicted a mug of coffee and a slice of cake. She stared in wonder at the small detail of the cake crumbs sitting next to the cake on the nicked plate. The steam floating up from the mug was amazingly realistic.

She shook her head and moved down a narrow hallway (which barely had enough room for her and made her self conscious about her girth) and came to a room with two portraits. They were of a bride and groom, both appeared devastated and were titled as 'Grieving Bride' and, respectively, 'Grieving Groom'.

In front of each painting was a sculpture of a blackened hand, the caption explaining that they, apparently, belonged to the bride. Arden moved on, resolving to fix their poor grieving faces after she found Garry. Sure, some of the paintings were total dicks, but that didn't mean they had no feelings.

She pulled open the door ahead and, lo and behold, blocking her path was a headless mannequin. Arden took a deep breath and pushed it, hard.

It shifted slightly forward.

"Ugh, dammit." She gasped out, breathing hard.

"Hmm," she considered. "Maybe…."

"Heave, ho" she said, this time pushing with all her might.

It loudly scraped across the stone floor. She chuckled. The 'heave, ho', probably didn't change anything, but it made it more fun, to be certain.

There wasn't much to sight-see, so she moved on.

In the hallway she came out to, there was a painting of a red smiley face with its tongue sticking out.

She stepped up to the painting curiously.

Nothing happened.

 _Strange,_ she thought.

She took a step back, and the painting spat at her. No joke, a blue liquid shot out from where the painting hung on the wall, falling at her feet. A petal fell off her rose, and with its departure came that dull pain in her belly, a constant ache that didn't fade, making her wince.

She bent down, and picked it up. Rather than the soft, velvety feel it once carried, it was dry and crinkled. It crumbled in her hand, and she let its remnants fall to the ground. She glanced back up at the painting to find that its tongue now wiggled at her tauntingly.

Taking care to avoid the "saliva", she wandered down the hall. _It's the hall where Ib would usually find Garry, laid down face down on the floor, moaning in pain and missing his rose,_ She realized suddenly. The hallway was empty though, besides her and the mocking painting.

 _Perhaps I'm here ...before them?_ _I spent forever on that staircase though, not to mention taking my sweet time getting here. Time must be warped here,_ She guessed, _Garry_ does _mention his watch no longer working once he got to the fabricated world.._

She proceeded down the hallway, and came out into a room with a would-be save station (of course, she took the pen, happily adding it to her collection), and a blue vase, along with a painting of the aforementioned blue vase. The caption read 'Eternal Blessing'. Arden recalled the blue vase being one that never ran out of water, able to be used again and again.

Still feeling the dull ache deep in her belly, she approached the vase and gently tugged the rose out of her cloak-loop. She placed the rose in the shimmery vase, and immediately felt the pain stop, becoming nothing but a memory.

She went on down the next hallway, and saw another vase, this one grey, and empty. Its table was on an elevated platform, with posters on either side. They held the same message about the rose representing your lifeblood and such.

Arden recognized this as the room where Ib would normally discover blue petals on the ground, and a spot of blood in front of a blank space on the wall with a caption that read "Lady in Blue."

However, the petals were not there, the red carpet was unstained, and the Lady in Blue remained regally depicted within her frame, hung on the wall with the glass unbroken.

Arden approached the red door she'd bypassed earlier and found it unlocked. The room had a sculpture, and a stool next to a window that let her see the room from which she just came.

Humming, she pulled the stool back to the wall opposite the window and took a seat. Leaning against the wall, she pulled out the book from her and read.

* * *

Well, that's chapter one, done. It was briefly edited by my sister, but if you see any mistakes, hit me up.

I know some people might find asking for reviews to be annoying, but personally, I like it because it reminds me to comment? I don't know if that's how it works for other people, but I'd love it if you'd like to comment. Say whatever, really. Criticism is appreciated, but if you don't have anything, questions or comments are great too! Reviews sort of let me know how I'm doing as an author, and they're just super cool to get.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm going to post the pieces that I've finished in sporadic bursts of three, probably. Sporadic so as to give myself some time to continue writing in between.

Enjoy?

* * *

When Arden had gotten about halfway through the book an hour later, she heard a noise. She crept up to the window and watched as Garry passed, looking down at the pretty blue rose in his left hand. She then heard the sound of breaking glass, and took that as incentive to burst out of the room. She quickly jumped the two stairs, saw that the 'Lady in Blue' had come off the wall, and. without hesitation, grabbed Garry's left hand, which seemingly no longer held his precious rose.

"Wha-?" Garry began as Arden harshly dragged him along.

"Where's your rose?" she asked, pulling him into the room and tightly shutting the door, releasing her hold on his hand. Garry shook out his hand, clearly pained by her unnecessarily tight grip.

"I don't- KYAH!" he yelped as the painted lady scrabbled at the door.

"Don't worry about it, the paintings can't open doors by themselves. They'll follow you to the ends of the earth, but they can't get past a door, unless you decide to open it. So don't. Now, where's your goddamn flower?"

Garry flinched at her words, "Why does it matter?"

Arden groaned, with her head in her hand she said "Clearly you lack attentive abilities. Did you not read the damn posters?! That rose is your _lifeblood._ When all its petals are gone, so are you, you massive idiot." She scolded him "All the humans from the gallery should have one." She stated matter-of-factly, drawing back the eaves of her cloak, exposing her rose and a couple (actually an unnecessary amount of) pens. Though she knew having a rose didn't mean much, considering that Mary had a rose too...

"What does that mean?" He inquired.

"What do you mean what does that mean?! The rose represents your life, the embodiment of your spir-"

"Yeah, no, I got that. I mean your shirt. Is that some obscure teenage reference?"

Arden's eyes trailed down to look at her t-shirt. True to the form of Res, she was wearing an Elder Scrolls t-shirt with a matching Imperial pendant.

"I'm not even a te- never mind that! Your rose!" she exclaimed urgently, flapping her hands

Garry was getting paler by the second, his face twisted in a grimace. "...hurts..." he managed to gasp out as he collapsed.

Arden cursed quietly. "I'll be right back," she clipped out, and ran out the door. The 'Lady in Blue' was in the corner, plucking petals off Garry's rose merrily. Arden approached, none too quietly, making the lady look up.

Her eyes set on a new human, she abandoned the rose in favor of pursuing Arden.

Carefully, but quickly, Arden backed off and the painting followed. She sidestepped, slightly scraping her leg on the frame, and sprinted to the corner. Down on one knee, she grasped the wilted rose, its thorns biting at her harshly, and the painting swiped at her. 3 petals fell off her rose, drifting to the ground, the pain was sharpened and acutely targeted at that same place in the pit of her stomach. Drops of blood welled up where the thorns dug into her hand.

This time as Arden sidestepped, the painting predicted it and matched her, managing to get in another swipe at her. Thinking quickly, Arden backed up, ran forward, jumped up, and, using the frame as a boost, sailed over the haughty woman-painting-creature.

She then raced out into the hall again, replenishing the blue rose in the blue vase before adding hers in. The pain in her stomach dissipated slowly, dulling until it was nothing, and Arden braced herself for another psuedo-battle of wits with a pretty painting.

Luck was on her side, it appeared, as the 'Lady in Blue' was facing away from her, about as far away as she could be, pacing up and down the stairs where she'd been playing with Garry's rose.

Arden raced to the room that held Garry, and opened and shut the door [tightly xP] in a flash. The painted lady scarce had time to turn around. Panting, Arden held out the healthy-looking blue rose.

"...Mmm..." Garry moaned. He raised his head and propped himself up on his elbow, "What... the pain's gone..."

He rose to his full height, even taller than Arden herself, who had the exceptional height of 5'11".

She again held out the rose, which Garry took from her.

"I thought I was a goner back there, thanks for getting it."

"Mmh." Arden grunted.

"I mean, I'm glad to know I'm not alone in here."

"I bet." Quoting a page from a book in the fabricated world, Arden said "One can be lonely, two a relief. Three..." she trailed off.

"...Should I know that from somewhere..?" Garry inquired, probably thinking that it was another "obscure teenage reference" or something.

"Never mind. Let's just go. But this time, can you try to go a bit slower? I love love love having to drag you by the wrist." she said in a dramatically-sweet voice. "Next time get some rollerblades and hold onto my sleeve, we don't have all day." her tone bitter now.

Garry paled again as Arden began to push open the door. "Wh-where are you-"

Arden cut him off. "C'mon, you don't wanna get caught by the 'Lady in Blue' do you? Or.. do you? Maybe you're into that stuff. I don't judge. She certainly enjoyed the game of 'Loves me, Loves me not' she had with your rose there. Just don't lead her on, mm-kay? She's my best friend, and I don't want her feelings hurt."

She pushed open the door, not bothering to see if Garry was following, and dashed to the exit.

Apparently, though, he thought it best to follow the mean, scary, cloaked lady, as, just before the door fell shut behind her, he burst out, letting it close with a bang.

"Was... that... really... necessary?" he gasped out, breathing hard.

Arden pulled up her oversized hood to cover a smirk that started forming, "Man, aren't you fit. Not even winded after that whole three feet you ran."

Her purposeful stride was cut off when Garry said "Ah, I just realized, I still haven't asked your name. Well, I'm-"

"Garry. I know." Arden continued walking

He appeared perplexed. "How do yo-"

"Also, watch out for the spit." She warned, moments before Garry nearly stepped in the damaging liquid.

She was a bit disappointed she did get to watch Garry jump, but she knew there would be plenty of that later. "Arro, by the way." she said, giving her alias she'd used as an assassin. Not at all obvious she was an archer, no?

"Hmm, that's a strange name. So, how-" Arden stopped suddenly, making her hood fall back, and Garry run into her, who clearly was not expecting the abrupt stop.

"How long do you intend to speak?" she bit out harshly. A tendril of regret coiled in her stomach as Garry flinched yet again, looking dejected.

She didn't apologize though. That was just her way. She never apologized. She just kept walking, offhandedly noticing the fact that Garry followed farther behind than he was before.

They moved past the mannequin she'd pushed out of her way previously, through the room with the paintings, and into the next room. Arden turned to the left, and as she expected, eyes popped up from small slits in the ground.

Garry exclaimed something about the disembodied eyes (which she ignored) as Arden strolled up to the eye that appeared "congested", the pupil shrunken and the whites reddened, and held steady eye contact for a solid ten seconds.

Garry seemed like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue, this time knowing better. Finally, Arden rose, and went over to the room that she knew contained the eyedrops.

She carefully pushed around all the stools, thinking two steps ahead, but when Garry had the bright idea of pushing one, it got stuck, unable to be moved back.

Garry apologized profusely, which Arden tuned out rather than interrupting.

"Don't mention it," Arden sighed, though she was annoyed that it was all messed up, she figured she owed it to him. She had gone the wrong way anyway, but that wasn't imperative for him to know.

She started again, this time going left, and eventually reached the eyedrops.

She seized them with a victorious smirk, and strode back out, Garry trailing behind. She made her way through the sea of blinking eyeballs, and knelt down next to the congested one. Arden smiled and squeezed out the eyedrops, placing the nearly emptied bottle in one of her pockets.

The eye blinked, the redness and congestion fading away. It shone happily, to which Arden responded with a grin. Garry stood off to the side, looking mildly confused.

The eye went back into the ground, and the slit moved over to the mouth of the hallway at the other end. It stared intently at the wall, which Arden noticed had a slight discoloration. "Thanks," She said and nodded her appreciation to it as the eye slid into the ground, still shining joyfully.

"I wonder..." Arden knocked in several different places on the wall, concluding that it was hollow. One of the places she hit was a disguised panel, which caused the wall to slide back loudly as it grinded against the floor.

"A secret passage, eh?" She said curiously. They went into the small passage, and Arden knelt down to pick up the red glass ball that sat at the end.

"Obviously, this was placed here purposefully. Someone set this whole thing up." Arden commented. "That white snake painting I saw, it had a hole in the eye. That must be what this glass ball is for. Obviously the congested eye didn't do this all itself..."

"You mean, this whole puzzle... it's some sort of game?" Garry asked, sounding slightly timid, as if he feared getting hit or something. Again, Arden felt a pang of regret, a feeling she was not accustomed to.

"Maybe, we've got to find the gamemaster," Arden suggested. At the very least, _she_ had to. She was not 100% happy with Res at the moment. She supposed if she was the new Ib, Res could have made himself Guertena. Not all that unlikely.

She tucked the glass ball in a pocket, and they exited. When they got to the snake painting, Arden pulled it out, her hand hovering in front of the hole. "Here goes nothing."

She pushed the ball into the hole, and not a moment later, the painting next to it fell down. The text on the back read "behind the tree"

"...What tree?" Garry asked.

"Let's find out," Arden responded, knowing full well exactly what tree it was. She went down to the room they previously ignored, and opened the door.

"A maze…?"

She and Garry made their way along, choosing to take the leftmost path. There were splotches of red paint on the floor everywhere. When they made the next turn, there was a headless statue.

And another.

And another.

Only one had focused on them and decided to give chase, but Arden figured this wasn't the time to be doing ninja jumps, so they lead it away, and sprinted past. They got to the northwestern corner of the maze, and found a poster that said to "finish a maze, hug the right side, and you'll get out eventually." Frowning, Arden lead the way back to the entrance, this time taking the rightmost path.

On an easel at the end, it read "south of the red paint"

"Huh? There's red paint everywhere!" Garry groaned.

"True enough, but the question is, which one would put us in the most danger?" Arden asked rhetorically, returning to the one where the three mannequins would have the easiest time converging on them.

"Right then, which way is south?" Garry asked, his voice slightly panicked as two mannequins began to make their way towards them.

* * *

I would say "woo, chapter two" if it were much of an accomplishment, but I literally wrote this in June of 2015, so... yeah. I did read over these and edited quite a bit, so I hope it is much improved from my first draft. Unfortunately, I haven't actually played Ib in ages, so this is counting on what I wrote from back then. If I ever hope to finish this, I'll either have to watch gameplay, or pick the game back up.


	3. Chapter 3

Okie kokie, here we are. The third chapter, inelegantly titled: Chapter Three. Wow.

* * *

Rather than taking her time to enjoy Garry's panic, she, parting her cloak, pulled a compass out of one of the many pockets stitched within.

After glancing at it, she grasped Garry's wrist and dragged him south. The mannequins were closing in.

There was a small switch on the wall, one that Arden hadn't noticed earlier.

"Do the honors?" she asked.

He nodded and flicked the switch. The sound of stone grinding against stone was heard outside.

Again, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and, not a moment to spare, raced out of the maze, barely avoiding the swipe from her #1 favorite statue-friend.

Outside the door, Garry spoke- or shouted- before Arden could continue dragging him around, likely leaving bruises on his wrist from her death grip. "If you're going to drag me around, could you, at the very _least_ , try not to break my wrist?!"

He immediately looked as though he regretted yelling at her. Arden remembered then that it was kind of his thing to be gentle and kind, a huge contrast to her abrasive personality.

She perfectly arched a dark, thin eyebrow. "Okay. Let's hold hands and skip around!" she said, her voice _dripping_ with fake excitement.

Jokingly intertwining her fingers with his, she swung their joined hands back and forth, skipping along. Garry walked beside her, looking confused.

After about three seconds, she dropped his hand and picked back up her steady fast-walking pace, lengthening her stride.

They came back to the small section with the save station and the 'Coffee and Cake' painting, but this time there was a new addition.

Garry stood in front of the door, perplexed. "Was this…. here before?"

"No." she said, pulling it open.

Within the room were many sculptures, one of them being a largely disproportionate wine glass that was tilted slightly with a deep red cushion acting as the wine.

He commented that it didn't look like the most comfortable sitting. In response to this, Arden began to climb in, using the caption as a boost.

"I don't think that's such a good ide-"

She was already lazily curled up inside. "I think I've proved you wrong. This is fantastic."

Garry frowned.

"C'mon, it's like I'm laying on a cloud." she said, then reconsidered. "Well, I suppose that's a poor comparison, considering if I laid on a cloud I would immediately fall through, coming out unpleasantly cold and wet, and would probably freeze from the high altitude… but you get the point. It's comfy."

He matched Arden's previously raised eyebrow.

When Garry said nothing, she huffed. "Fine. You're no fun." Languidly, she uncurled, stretching like a cat, and jumped down in a fluid motion, desperately missing the 3DMG from her first adventure in an alternate universe. She couldn't even imagine Garry's reaction to that.

When she'd been up on her perch, she'd spotted the strange, slightly anthropomorphic tree at the very back of the room. Calmly, she walked up behind it, leaving Garry behind, still staring at the skeleton sculpture. Disguised in its leafy branches, a silver wedding ring gleamed.

Arden smirked, having gotten an idea. She slipped the ring into a secret compartment at the base of her neck (not that the others weren't secret), and utilized the remaining eyedrops to create the effect of teardrops and whirled around to face Garry, who was saying some irrelevant thing about the sculpture.

At her sudden movement, he turned. Arden, who had a taste for the dramatic, got down on one knee. "My sun-and-stars, light of my life," she blinked hard, making one of the "tears" fall. She withdrew the ring from the pocket theatrically. "Will you marry me?"

Her smirk returned, wider, as she enjoyed the ever-so-confused look on his face, as well as a slight blush.

"Wha- wh-where did you even get that?" the smirk morphed into a real smile at his stuttering.

"Don't leave me hanging here, I just bore my soul to you!" she returned, still on one knee. "I know, I know, 'doesn't the guy usually propose to the girl'" she said in a falsetto voice, "but I figured you wouldn't have the balls to do it, so I had to take action. I couldn't let my undying love wither for even a second."

Finally, she stood up, placed the ring back in its pocket, and winked at Garry. Not breaking stride, she left the room.

Arden waited a few seconds, annoyed when Garry didn't follow. She shrugged, figuring he'd catch up eventually, and went back to the room with the grieving bride and groom. She approached the left hand and slipped the silver ring onto the ring finger. Immediately, the bride's face changed to be ecstatic, and the caption now read 'Blessed Bride's Left Hand'. The bride threw her bouquet, which Arden caught with a flourish, and did a little spin, her cloak floating up around her.

Then she realized that Garry still wasn't with her. Her smile faded, and she pulled her hood back up. Tucking the bouquet into her largest pocket, she went back to the sculpture room where Garry last was. When she looked down, she saw that the flowers left a bulge in her side. She smirked.

Remembering her purpose, she schooled her features back to the blank mask and opened the door warily.

Garry was sitting, leaning against the wall. He rubbed his temples.

Arden furrowed her brow. "Coming?"

"Hmm? I-I, uh, yeah." he stuttered.

* * *

My sister asked me if this was going to be a romance, which it most emphatically will not be. I haven't 100% decided where this will go, but so far, in Arden's many unposted adventures, there hasn't been any romance, and it will probably remain that way. I get that some people like a romantic subplot, but I'm not really one for them, and I'm not too terribly experienced there. I'm not too terribly experienced in dying and adventuring through fictional worlds, either, but that's not the point. I'm trying to keep it as candid as possible, and hoping for some nuance of realism. This is kind of training for my immature writing skills though, so I'm not setting my hopes too high. I'm like a Sim trying to increase their Writing Skill.

Oh, there was a character called "Res" mentioned earlier. They will appear, I just wanted a little footnote mentioning that Arden is not aware of the character's gender- if they have one- so "they/them" pronouns are used. Res is a sort of genderless white, vaguely humanoid blob.

Review if you feel like it. Ib isn't a very popular category, so I decided I'd go here for some practice to hone my skills before posting seriously.

Well, these Author Notes are sort of stream-of-consciousness, so I'll leave it at that.


	4. Chapter 4

A shattering emanated from outside.

Arden and Garry ran for the door that was previously locked, finding that the puzzle they completed had indeed unlocked it. A Lady in Red was gaining on them.

Arden frantically tugged it open, ushered Garry inside, and pulled it shut with a resounding slam. Scraping and scratching could be heard as the demented painting desperately chased after those delicate little roses.

Drawing in a deep breath, Arden turned to see Garry staring at his reflection in a large mirror.

She approached slowly, staring back into her grey eyes, dull due to the lack of lighting. Garry seemed to have about a foot on Arden, though she realized she looked older. Dirt was smudged along her jawline, paired with a nasty burn scar marring the left side of her face. Nose wrinkled in disgust, she ran a hand through her impossibly long hair. It was a tangled rat's nest, and a horrible disadvantage in battle, but she vowed long ago never to cut it.

Seeing herself in the mirror suddenly brought an intense desire to shower, to wash away all of the grime, the dried blood of her enemies. The memories.

Stepping back, she lowered her eyes and raised her hood.

The sound of smashed glass broke the heavy silence.

"What the... when did this get into the room...?"

Just inside the door laid a mannequin head.

Arden shook her head, and turned back to Garry.

Arden spoke quietly."You know, I've been thinking, maybe it's a dream. This whole thing. Even going to the art gallery. But the thing is, in good old psych 101, they teach you that mirrors don't work in dreams, and that's how you know you're asleep- or awake. Y'know, for nightmares, or people dissociating. This... it's real. It's not a coma following a freak accident, this is all real."

"...Hm?" Garry hummed questioningly.

Arden only then noticed the mannequin head hovering just behind Garry's left shoulder.

Apparently, so did Garry, as he cried out and sprung backwards, landing on his backside.

"W-wh-WHAT is THAT?!" Garry exclaimed fearfully.

He stood back up, glaring at the mannequin head. "Y..." he began. "Why, you...!" he cocked back his leg, clearly intending to kick the mannequin.

Arden raced over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head. "Perhaps we shouldn't anger the living art?"

Garry paused. "R-right, Arden. That was immature of me..." he trailed off. "Well, let's go."

They left behind the room with the mirror and the head, bracing themselves at the door, ready to sprint if need be.

As it turned out, they did. The lady in red was close by. Arden yet again grasped Garry's arm, and they ran down the hall, past the Hanged Man painting. At the end, the Lady in Green had come off the wall. Trying and failing to avoid her, Arden grabbed the glinting key, but not without the creature getting in a few swipes. As they fled, another painting came of the wall, attacking Arden yet again, and more petals drifted down from inside her cloak, forming a trail.

Finally, they reached the room with the save station next to the door, and entered, Garry pulling the door shut behind him. Out of breath, and hurting quite a bit, Arden sat on the couch, which bore an eerie resemblance to 'Reserved Seat' from the original gallery.

She seemed to sink into the soft cushions, immediately feeling better. The sharp pains in her belly ebbed away.

Once she caught her breath, though, she stood again, ready to see what there was to find in the room. Upon standing, the pain returned and the urge to scramble back was strong, but she knew there would be no progress if she only tended to her wants. On an easel to the right of the entrance there was a poster that read "If you're tired, why not rest? You'll never be hurt again..."

"Unnerving." Arden stated plainly. Garry nodded in agreement.

She attempted to move one of the stools, but found it affixed to the floor. Upon testing the other one, she discovered it to be in the same state.

Only then did she notice the painting in the back of the room. It depicted a 3/4 view of a familiar young girl, with long blonde hair, braided into an equally familiar nine-strand dutch braid. Her eyes shone like the sea, brimming with happiness. She was sitting down on some pillows, a book titled "Wonders of the World", written in a long lost language, in her lap, surrounded by candles.

Arden jerked back, falling to the ground.

"What is it, Arden?" Garry inquired, a concerned look on his face.

She shook her head violently, causing her hood to fall back and reveal eyes filled with tears.

"Who's that? You know this girl?"

"That's not fair." Her voice quavered, nearly inaudible. A tear rolled down her cheek, settling in a pit of her scar.

"Arden?" Garry knelt.

She swallowed, trying to compose herself. "It's… She's- was- my sister." Arden blinked hard, squeezing out tears.

"The girl in the painting is your sister? Why would such a painting be down here?" Garry seemed to come back to himself then. He paused for a long moment.

"You said 'was'. What happened to her, if you don't mind my asking?"

Arden tugged her hood back up. "I do mind!" She snapped.

She didn't look up, but she practically heard the flinch.

Her breathing evened out.

She let a few more moments pass, focusing on controlling her tears.

"I'm sorry. She was killed."Arden said shortly.

"You didn't have t-"

"Shut up." Her heart wasn't in it.

Garry nodded, still look concerned.

Arden moved on, standing in front of a bookcase that had the top two shelves empty. Garry lingered for a moment, stuck in his own thoughts, then quickly strode over.

"I bet this could be moved..." Arden trailed off, then pressed her back against the left side of the shelf, pushing it in front of the window.

"Hmm, it's covering the window... Oh well." Garry said.

"Not much sunlight anyways, hmm?"

Ready to move on, they went back to the door, only to find it locked. To be honest, Arden wasn't all that surprised.

There was the sound of banging at the door, and a tense feeling clouded the air. All of the sudden the wall next to the eerie painting burst open, sending a cloud of dust and drywall everywhere, and out came a painted lady. Arden sprung into action and took a running leap over it, knocking it back when her foot grazed the top. Two petals floated down. Garry simply ran around it, and the crawled through the hole.

They just.. apparated outside the door, rather than crawling through ducts or anything. Arden was simply glad for the lack of spider-interaction. Rather than avoid the various creatures pursuing them, Arden simply sprinted past, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Countless petals drifted down from her belt, but Arden scarcely noticed them. All her attention was focused on getting out. Finally, they reached a hallway, Garry lagging behind her.

It was one that lead to the safe room Arden came from. She was too distracted to be unnerved by the crying portraits.

They only slowed to a stop at the second to last painting, Garry bent over with his hands on his thighs, catching his breath, and Arden collapsed, falling to her knees and breathing unbelievably hard. Her legs felt like melted plastic.

"That should be... far enough.. I think.." Garry gasped out between breaths. "We certainly showed THEM!" he exclaimed.

"My... well then..." Garry trailed off. "Let's keep go- ...Arden?" He approached her and knelt in front of her. "Oh my, what is it? Are you okay?" Arden then collapsed the rest of the way, losing consciousness.

"Arden?" Garry questioned more forcefully. "Arden?! Arden!" His voice got frantic. Arden slipped away, her vision blackening.

* * *

She returns! Yeah, sorry. I already have quite a lot of this written. For the most part, it's editing. I just haven't gotten around to doing.. well, much of anything lately. I go to online school, so I rarely have a reason to leave the house. Very rarely. I think it's started getting to me.

I don't know. I've played a lot of video games lately, and spent a lot of quality time with my cats. (I have 5. It's a problem. I know. Not my fault.) I have like 20 more plot bunnies floating around in my pretty little head.

Anyways, don't you just _love_ when a chapter ends with a character slipping out of consciousness? Usually that means a fun little dream sequence. I'm not quite sure how to feel about those.

I'm equally unsure whether to make the next chapter utterly short or terribly long.

Review if you want. It's much appreciated, and I usually forget to update. I only just saw a friendly little review and that's what possessed my insane self to post. They're also very nice to receive, and on a bad day I quite enjoy looking over them.

I suppose that's all.


End file.
